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By God my wrath is all forgive.
hued, And every day her beauty newed. And nigh her face was alderbest ;3 For, certes, Nature had such lest To inake that fair, that truly she Was her chief patron of beauté, And chief example of all her worke And moulter:#for, be it never so derke, Methinks I see her evermo, And yet, moreover, though all tho That ever lived were now alive, Not would have founde to descrive In all her face a wicked sign, – For it was sad, simple, and benign. And such a goodly sweet speech Had that sweet, my life's leech, So friendly, and so well y-grounded Upon all reason, so well founded, And so treatable to all good, That I dare swear well by the rood, Of eloquence was never found So sweet a sounding faconde, Nor truer tongued nor scorned less, Nor bét6 could heal, that, by the Mass Idurst swear, though the Pope it sung, 1 Straw.
4 Monster. 2 Lived.
6 Eloquence. 8 Best of all,
There was never yet through her
tongue Man or woman greatly harmed As for her was all harm hid, No lassie flattering in her worde, That, purely, her simple record Was found as true as any bond, Or truth of any man'es hand. Her throat, as I have now memory, Seemed as a round tower of ivory, Of good greatness, and not too great, And fair white she hete i That was my lady's name right, She was thereto fair and bright, She had not her name wrong, Right fair shoulders, and body long She had, and armes ever lith Fattish, fleshy, not great therewith, Right white hands and nailès red Round breasts, and of good brede 8 Her lippes were; a straight flat back, I knew on her none other lack, That all her limbs were pure snowing In as far as I had knowing. Thereto she could so well play What that her list, that I dare say That was like to torch bright That every man may take of light Enough, and it hath never the less Of manner and of comeliness. Right so fared my lady dear For every wight of her mannere Might catch enough if that he would If he had eyes her to behold For I dare swear well if that she Had among ten thousand be, She would have been at the best, A chief mirror of all the feast Though they had stood in a row To men's eyen that could know, For whereso men had played or
waked, Methought the fellowship as naked Without her, that I saw once As a crown without stones. Truely she was to mine eye The soleino phonix of Araby, For there liveth never but one, Nor such as she ne know I none. To speak of goodness, truely she Had as much debonnairte As ever had Hester in the Bible, And more, if more were possible; And sooth to say therewithal She had a wit so general, 7 Was called.
Sole. A Breadth.
“And vital feelings of delight
So well inclined to all good
Thou art not gone, being gone,
where'er thou art Thou leav'st in him thy watchful eyes, in him thy loving heart.
HREE years she grew in sun and
shower; Then Nature said, “ A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own.
"Myself will to my darling be
I THINK not on my father, And these great tears grace his re
membrance more Than those I shed for him. What
was he like? I have forgot him: my imagination Carries no favor in it, but Ber
tram's. I am undone: there is no living,
none, If Bertram be away. It were all
one, That I should love a bright, particu
lar star, And think to wed it, he is so above
me: In his bright radiance and collateral
light Must I be comforted, not in his
sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues
itself. The hind that would be mated by the
lion Must die for love.
'Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour; to sit and
draw His arched brows, his hawking eye,
his curls, In our heart's table; heart, too capa
ble Of every line and trick of his sweet
favor: But now he's gone, and my idola
trous fancy Must sanctify his relics.
“The floating clouds their state shall
lend To her; for her the willow bend: Nor shall she fail to see, Even in the motions of the storm, Grace that shall mould the maiden's
form By silent sympathy.
"The stars of midnight shall be dear
round; And beanty, born of murmuring
sound, Shall pass inte her face.
I'LL NEVER LOVE THEE MORE.
To heroism and holiness
How hard it is for man to soar, But how much harder to be less Than what his mistress loves him
for! He does with ease what do he must, Or lose her, and there's nought
debarred From him who's called to meet her
trust, And credit her desired regard. Ah, wasteful woman! she that may On her sweet self set her own
price, Knowing he cannot choose but pay;
How has she cheapened paradise, How given for nought her priceless
gift, How spoiled the bread, and spilled
the wine, Which, spent with due, respective
thrift, Had made brutes men, and men
My dear and only love, I pray
That little world of thee
But purest monarchy:
Which virtuous souls abhor,
I'll never love thee more.
And I will reign alone:
A rival on my throne.
Or his deserts are small,
To gain or lose it all.
Thy love and constant word,
And glorious by my sword.
As ne'er was known before;
MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.
TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
O queen! awake to thy renown, Require what 'tis our wealth to
give, And comprehend and wear the crown
Of thy despised prerogative! I who in manhood's name at length
With glad songs come to abdicate The gross regality of strength,
Must yet in this thy praise abate, That through thine erring humble
And disregard of thy degree, Mainly, has man been so much less
Than fits his fellowship with thee. High thoughts had shaped the fool
ish brow, The coward bad grasped the hero's
sword, The vilest had been great, hadst
thou, Just to thyself, been worth's re
ward : But lofty honors undersold
Seller and buyer both disgrace; And favor that makes folly bold Puts out the light in virtue's face.
Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
APOLOGY FOR HAVING
They that never had the use
Neither do, nor care to, know, Whether it be best or no.
Learn to win a lady's faith
So they that are to love inclined, Sway'd by chance, nor choice or
art, To the first that's fair or kind,
Make a present of their heart: Tis not she that first we love, But whom dying we approve. To man, that was in th' evening
Those little drops of light.
Removed them from the skies,
She entertained his eyes.
All those he'gan despise;
And could no higher rise.
By your truth she shall be true,
Nay, you wrong her my friend,
she's not fickle; her love she
has simply outgrown: One can read the whole matter,
translating her heart by the light of one's own.